


Calypso Craze

by GrowlingPeanut



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, F/F, F/M, M/M, Master/Pet, Monster Troy, Sex, Threesome, these are all very short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 04:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 6,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18886756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrowlingPeanut/pseuds/GrowlingPeanut
Summary: Collection of every short drabble I've posted on Tumblr. Each one will have its own warnings, etc. Any of these could potentially be expanded on - if there's one you're particularly interested in, just let me know and I'll see what I can do with it. Most of these were written for friends.





	1. Power

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right as the twins start to feel like _gods_. This hints at an idea I'd had where something more sinister is pulling the strings behind the twins and sending Troy off the rails a little bit.

The crowd before them is vast, it stretches for what feels like miles. The chant is deafening. _Calypso! Calypso!_ It makes his skin prickle. There’s an energy here. And for once, there’s energy in _him_ , too. More than just the baseline buzz that Tyreen’s pick-me-ups give. No, this is on par with her own. It feels like a supernova in his chest.

The crowd parts like water as they pass through. No one dares to touch them. Troy swears he can smell the emotion. It’s equal parts respect, awe, and fear. They ascend the stairs to the massive stage, the chants growing impossibly _louder_ behind them. At the apex, they turn in unison to look down over the crowd. A sudden hush settles.

It takes nothing more than a shared glance. Channeling the energy is easier than he expects. His left arm blazes into brilliant, terrible light; crimson to Tyreen’s azure. The crowd _drops_. All at once, everyone is on their knees, heads bowed.

In the darkest recesses of his mind, Troy hears laughter. A feral grin crosses his lips. _This was going to be fun._


	2. The Promise of Perfection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're Tyreen's favorite and she has plans to make you _even better_. Written for a friend.
> 
> **Sex. Implied body modification.**

“You look beautiful like this.”

The praise seems odd. Usually it’s _your_ lips that are gasping out half-prayers and irreverent worship. It’s not _unwelcome_ , per se, just…odd. You stammer out a thank you.

She giggles - a breathy, euphoric sound. It couples well with the wet slide of the toy in your body. “Totally submissive and _aaaaall_ mine…” Deft hands dance up your sides, making you shiver. “So obedient…” She traces your shoulder blades. “So…hnmm.”

You curl your fingers around the edge of the table, losing yourself for a few minutes in the strong rhythm of her hips.

“I could make you into anything I wanted you to be, huh?” The words are directly beside your ear, quiet but razor-sharp. “I could make you _flawless_.”

Your breath hitches at the sound of the promise in her voice.

“How’s that sound, pet?” Her teeth graze across the back of your neck. “Do you want me to make you _perfect?_ ”


	3. Two Is Better Than One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the Twin Gods have... _needs._
> 
> **This is just shamless smut. Reader is being spitroasted by the twins.**

“You’re so good,” Tyreen croons. “Taking us both…”

Fingers whisper along the ridges of your spine; your skin prickles and your body goes tense. You whimper. It comes out sounding a little choked. But that’s probably because the entire length of Troy’s cock is shoved down your throat.

He laughs softly, shifting his hips. “Yeah, real… _generous_.” He bucks forward. It’s not exactly gentle.

Tears spring to your eyes. You know what goes on behind closed doors. You know that even the twin gods have…urges. You just never expected to be _chosen_.

Behind you, Tyreen sighs, draping herself over your back. Her breasts press into you, soft, warm - exactly like her breath between your shoulder blades. “How’s that mouth, Troy?” she murmurs, lips against your skin.

You swallow and work your tongue around him, as much as you’re able. His fingers tighten, tangling deeper into your hair. _Success_.

“One of the best,” he breathes.

Tyreen kisses her way down your back; you can feel the smile on her lips. “Might have to take advantage of that. After I’m done down here, of course.” She pinches your ass and rolls her hips.

The motion sends you rocking forward and you actually choke a little. Troy hums. “Easy, Ty.” The metallic finger on your throat is gentler - and warmer - than you expect. It moves slowly, deliberately, stroking away the discomfort. “We’ve gotta make this one last for a while.”


	4. Don't Play With Troy's Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both of the twins want you, but Troy's hungry and doesn't want to share.
> 
> **Biting, implied cannibalism.**

You’re on your back. Tyreen is straddling you, holding your arms above your head with her right hand, petting your cheek with her left. She’s still dressed but she’s grinding against you, smirking, leaning in _almost_ close enough to kiss, but you can’t move -

And then the door slams open. Tyreen rolls her eyes. “Get the fuck out, Troy.”

“What did I say about playing with my food?” You can see him in your peripheral vision.

She flips him off, but stands up anyway. “Fine. Dig in. They’re not going anywhere.”

You see Troy coming closer and try to move again. Nothing.

Tyreen’s tattoos flare white. “Nuh uh uh…this’ll be so much easier if you relax.”

Before you can even register that Troy’s _right next to you_ , he’s licking your jaw with a tongue that you _know_ is too long for a normal human.

“Don’t fight, honey,” he purrs against your ear. “It’ll go quick.” You don’t have time to ask _what_. His teeth (too sharp, much too sharp) close around your neck and the last thing you feel before you black out is a deep laugh rumbling into your chest.


	5. Snack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know how people post pictures of their food on Instagram? Yeah.
> 
> **Gore, cannibalism.**

The first time he takes a picture, you don’t think anything of it. The twins had… _acquired_ …you during the last offering ceremony and you’re honestly just happy you’re not dead. A collar and leash is tame, compared to the things you know they’re capable of. You figure he’s just happy to have you, which is…oddly flattering.

The camera flashes, catching you off-guard, but you give him a shy smile and he grins back, waving away your attention. “Just ignore me, sweetie.” The nickname sounds endearing on his lips.

So you do.

But that night, you discover the truth of your new living conditions. The sedative in his bite does little to numb the pain as he tears into your flesh, gulping down skin and muscle and blood. Tyreen holds you down, stroking your hair, whispering comfort, knitting you back together.

You pass out sore and scared.

The next time he takes a picture, you’re covered in blood. It’s not your own—you’d gone with him for a joyride and managed to turn an entire den of skags into paste under the tires—but you still see the _spark_ in his eyes; you saw it the first time he… You still somehow manage a weak smile.

He leans over, pushing his lips against your pulse. “You look good like this, honey.” The nickname sounds more like an ominous promise. You fight back a shudder as he licks the blood from your jawline.

The next time, you’ve figured out the pattern. You’re lying bruised and nearly broken in the wake of a raid gone bad, but the twins are just as healthy as ever. Energized. Tyreen’s fingers dance over your injuries, stitching them closed.

Troy stops her. “Let me get a pic first,” he mutters.

You don’t smile into the flash this time.

Troy doesn’t seem to care. “You look _delicious…_ ”

It sounds downright threatening.


	6. Personal Chew Toy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Troy has some weird habits. You find out about them firsthand.
> 
> **Biting, implied cannibalism. Collar and leash.**

“G'mornin’, pet,” he rumbles from beside you. His smile is lazy, sleepy, coy as you turn to him. “Comfortable?”

You shrug. “…sore?”

He laughs. The sound of it sends shivers down your spine, but not necessarily in a bad way. “I’ve heard that happens after the first time.” He toys with the leash clipped to the collar around your neck, weaving it between his long fingers. “But you handled it well.”

You nod, not really remembering what he was talking about.

“And you didn’t even _try_ to leave last night.” He gives the leash a tug. “Must like me, huh?”

You just hum. Joke’s on him. Leashes are…kinda your thing. “You’re alright,” you finally mutter.

He’s amused. “Just alright?” He leaves your field of vision and you feel weight settle across your hips. “Maybe I can change your mind…”

For a second you’re worried, but you feel his fingers press into your shoulder blades and you involuntarily relax. “Tyreen says I give a killer massage, but she’s my sister and I want…a more objective opinion.”

You feel the tension melting out of your muscles with each gentle movement of his hands. Surprisingly, he’s using his mechanical one too, but it doesn’t hurt. He must know just the right amount of pressure to apply. Pretty soon, you’re dozing, lulled by the way his fingers are working into every crevice of your back, all the pressure points. You feel like you’re floating.

“There you go…just relax…” His breath tickles over your ear. “This shouldn’t hurt…”

You don’t have time to ask before you feel his teeth close on the side of your neck, piercing through flesh. You want to tense up, try to get out, but…you’re so warm…his hands are still working and there’s numbness flooding your veins…

“That’s a good pet,” he purrs, lips directly against your skin. “Time for round two…” He bites down harder.


	7. Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're cold. He's warm.
> 
> **Implied biting, cannibalism. Troy knows he owns you.**

Cold. That’s the first sensation you’re able to focus on. Just empty, hollow cold all throughout your body. It doesn’t feel like it’s a _part_ of you, it feels distant, like you have ice packs pressed against your skin. On the inside you just feel numb. You shiver, instinctively attempting to curl up. Your movements seem unusually slow.

The next thing you feel is warmth on your neck. It’s only barely there, but it’s so intense, such a stark contrast in temperature that you try to jerk away. Only when the warmth moves to your arm do you realize that it’s someone’s _hand_.

“Shh…”

It all rushes back with his voice. You turn your head, trying to see through your swimming, watery vision. Blue eyes, every bit as cold as your body feels, stare back at you.

“Easy,” he murmurs. You catch a hint of sharp, bloodstained teeth. “I’ve gotcha. Shh…”

Hesitantly, you settle down, letting him pull you against his body. Your sore, frigid muscles practically melt as you slump against his chest.

“There you go, just like that.”

You’ve never heard his voice so tender, at least not that you can remember. His hand strokes through your hair once, twice…. You’re almost asleep by the time you feel his fingers slide down your neck to rest against your pulse. After a minute, he hums, sounding pleased. You burrow closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“You know you’re all mine, huh?” His fingers rub your shoulder in a lazy massage. “You need me.”

Only half-lucid, you nod, pressing as much of your aching body against him as possible. He’s so warm, you feel safe…. You drift to sleep, lulled by the satisfied rumble in his chest.

“ _All mine_.”


	8. Joystick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> r3dtatt00s: i was in an mmo squad with troy calypso and all i got was this dumb achievement
> 
> The twins jump into a game with some of their fans and get a big kick out of their reactions.
> 
>  
> 
> _(Borderline-crack born from a Skype chat with Oryx_Gazella and created_clockwork. (If the formatting is hard to read, let me know and I'll put spaces between lines.) created_clockwork gets credit for the line about Troy eating cars, Tyreen saying he's not the hot one, the greg debacle, and a few other bits and pieces.)_

[ **TwinGods4Evah** _has entered the game_ ]  
 **meatbike420:** oh shit level 60 whats up dude wanna join our squad?  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** sure  
 **strippptheflesh:** welcome to the team  
 **r3dtatt00s:** come thirst about troy with us  
 **strippptheflesh:** speak for yourself bro  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** troy calypso?  
 **r3dtatt00s:** you know anyone else named troy?  
 **r3dtatt00s:** he’s a s*x god  
 **r3dtatt00s:** wait why the f*ck is my profanity filter on gimme a sec  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** lmao you wanna fuck him?  
 **r3dtatt00s:** listen man he could rip my arms off and i’d thank him. i’d let him do NAYTHING to me  
 **r3dtatt00s:** *anything  
 **strippptheflesh:** and the horny on main award goes to…  
 **r3dtatt00s:** i ahve no shame  
 **r3dtatt00s:** *have  
 **r3dtatt00s:** fuck this keyboard  
 **meatbike420:** nah your fingers are just shakin cause you’re thinkin about gettin fucked up by troy  
 **meatbike420:** what do you think that mouth do?  
 **r3dtatt00s:** somethin nasty i hope  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** how nasty we talking?  
 **strippptheflesh:** lol i hear he eats cars  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** nobody ever proved that  
 **GLORYTOTHESIRENGODS:** BLASPHEMY  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** oh shit looks like we got a fanatic here. we’re just havin fun bro cool it  
 **GLORYTOTHESIRENGODS:** THE TWIN GODS ARE UNATTAINABLE  
 **meatbike420:** okay who lets a psycho play a video game. wait do they know how to type? wtf  
 **GLORYTOTHESIRENGODS: [[*muffled mic noises*]]**  
[ **GLORYTOTHESIRENGODS** _has left the game_ ]  
 **r3dtatt00s:** A N Y WA Y  
 **strippptheflesh:** you want troy to rip your throat out, we know  
 **r3dtatt00s:** he’s so hot  
 **r3dtatt00s:** it’s visceral man  
 **meatbike420:** i bet you wouldn’t be this shameless if he could see you saying all this  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** maybe he can  
 **r3dtatt00s:** don’t care  
 **r3dtatt00s:** shameless  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** i’m sure he’d be flattered  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** i hear they’re pretty chill  
 **meatbike420:** oh shit you got insider knowledge bro? spill it  
 **strippptheflesh:** what if they’re actually troy tho  
 **r3dtatt00s:** …  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** wait now hold on i thought you said no shame lmao  
 **r3dtatt00s:** you’d tell us if you were really troy right  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** ;)  
 **r3dtatt00s:** BRO DON’T EVEN PLAY AROUND  
 **r3dtatt00s:** im gona fuckign piss myself  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** hot  
 **strippptheflesh:** haaaaaa  
[ **HonorTheGodQueen** _has joined the game_ ]  
 **HonorTheGodQueen:** he’s not even the hot one  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** HEY LIL BIG SIS  
 **r3dtatt00s:** fuckfuckfukcfuckfuckfuc  
 **r3dtatt00s:** PLELASE TELL ME YOUR’E NOT ACTUALYL THEM  
 **strippptheflesh:** LOL YOU’RE DEAD BRO I KNEW IT  
 **meatbike420:** holy shit  
 **r3dtatt00s:** fuck im so sorry i hope i didnt  
 **r3dtatt00s:** fuck  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** didn’t what?  
 **HonorTheGodQueen:** yeah c’mon let’s hear it  
 **r3dtatt00s:** oh god oh fuck  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** say that again~ ;P  
 **strippptheflesh:** SCREAMING  
 **meatbike420:** rip  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** you know **@r3dtatt00s** if you ever wanna see ‘what this mouth do’ just come find me  
[ **r3dtatt00s** _has left the game_ ]  
 **HonorTheGodQueen:** shame  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** did anyone manage to add them?  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** what if i randomly DM’d them i think they’d die  
 **strippptheflesh:** so wait are you guys the real calypsos??  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** ;) ;) ;)  
 **HonorTheGodQueen:** troy i think they know  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhH  
 **strippptheflesh:** holy fuck  
 **HonorTheGodQueen:** shut up greg  
 **strippptheflesh:** my name’s not even greg  
 **HonorTheGodQueen:** it is now  
 **strippptheflesh:** yes ma’am  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** careful she likes that  
[ **strippptheflesh** _has changed their name to_ **stripppthegreg** ]  
 **TwinGods4Evah:** nooooooo don’t enable her  
 **HonorTheGodQueen:** oh so you’re the only one who can have fun around here?  
 **meatbike420:** oooohh sibling fight  
 **meatbike420:** no offense  
 **meatbike420:** don’t kill me  
 **HonorTheGodQueen:** just because yours left  
[ **r3dtatt00s** _has entered the game_ ]  
 **stripppthegreg: @r3dtatt00s** IT’S ACTUALLY THEM  
 **r3dtatt00s:** WE DIE LIKE MEN  
 **r3dtatt00s:** wait why are you greg


	9. Selection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're pulled from the crowd as a sacrifice, you're expecting to die.
> 
> **Cannibalism, gore.**

Silence is worse than sound, you’ve come to realize. Silence from a crowd means anticipation. And there’s always silence before a sacrificial selection. Or, in this case, an offering. Your heart is beating so loudly you’re sure everyone else can hear it and with the way they’re watching you…

You don’t want to move, but the priests are prodding you in the back, hissing at you to keep walking. The twin pairs of cold blue eyes feel like needles in your skin, prickling, digging deeper as you move closer. You dare to meet them. They’re calm. Contemplating. Almost regal, missing their typical arrogance. Somehow, you’ve never felt so threatened. The priests pull you down into a kneel when you reach the final step. Your knees hit the ground and you have to catch yourself with your hands. You hear one of them snort. Heat rushes to your face as you scramble upright.

“Look at us, disciple,” Tyreen barks.

You can’t disobey. She’s tapping her fingers on the arm of her throne, scrutinizing you through smoky eyes. Troy has a ghost of a smirk on his lips. You feel like you’re in immediate danger. That fear only amplifies as Troy stands. His motions are slow and deliberate, muscles tight, eyes sharp. It’s the calculated intent of a predator closing in on prey. He lifts his sword from its place beside his throne. You fight the urge to cringe at the shrill screech of metal on metal as he drags it along beside him, tossing sparks. When he’s within just mere feet of you, he raises it—more quickly than you expect—pressing the tip beneath your chin.

“What makes you so special, huh?” The sword bites into your skin as he uses it to turn your head from side to side. His smirk is just as sharp. Twice as wicked. You try to swallow.

Tyreen murmurs something to him. You can’t hear much of it over the blood rushing in your ears, but you know how these things go. The gods need life and this time? It’s yours. Your heart only beats faster. Troy laughs. You don’t like how it sounds. Still, he lowers his sword, but the relief is short-lived as the blade is replaced by his mechanical fingers, tightening around your neck, lifting you from the ground—

“Shh…” His lips brush your jaw. “Don’t fight…”

_Not like this. Please not like this._ You thought you were ready, but a sword is so different from _teeth_ and— You can feel him smiling against the soft skin below your ear and you wait, anticipating, _dreading_ hearing that ‘ _snap_ ’ as his jaws unhinge… You’d seen it on the screens, in the heat of a battle, the way he tore indiscriminately into flesh and bone, biting and rending, spraying just as much blood as he drank but he’d never, _never_ taken a sacrifice like that. It was always a beheading, or Tyreen with her terrible, awe-inspiring power—

Just as you’re about to start gasping for breath—and maybe pleading for your life—he releases you. You crash to your hands and knees in a heap, coughing and sputtering. You feel his hand on the back of your neck—you expect him to pull you upright, but all he does is tousle your hair.

You regain your composure just in time to see Tyreen rise from her throne, her godly tattoos glowing a soft indigo. “ _The twin gods accept this sacrifice!_ ” Her voice thunders out over the crowd, immediately met by a deafening wave of raucous cheers and shouting.

It’s _then_ that Troy hauls you to your feet, but you’re so confused that you let yourself be dragged along. _What had just happened? Weren’t they supposed to **kill** you?_

\- - - -

...you discover your purpose later that night. Your wrists and ankles are shackled. Tyreen is twirling your newly-fitted collar around her finger, watching with a sadistic smirk. Troy’s teeth are somewhere in your chest cavity; you feel blooms of pressure, but not much else—which you’re grateful for. You force down the reflex to vomit as something—no, you know it’s a bone—cracks. You just want to pass out. Whether or not you’d want to wake up again is the real question.

You watch Troy pull away, licking the crimson blood from his jaws. He grins at you; it’s grotesque, broken, bestial. His fingers are soft as he traces his left hand over the lines of your face, but there’s no compassion in his eyes. Only pride. Possessiveness. Hunger. He dives back in, gnawing at your ribs.

_No_ , you decide, shutting your eyes, trying to think of _anything_ other than this warped reality. _Death would have been a better fate._


	10. Too Strong To Be Denied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're captured by the twins, who reveal that they have a chilling set of plans for you. Inspired by "Brainwash" by Simon Curtis.
> 
> **Blood, torture, implied brainwashing.**

It was impossible to live on Pandora if you didn’t have some level of numbness to fear.

So the dark room didn’t scare you. The single chair in the middle of that room didn’t scare you. The drain underneath that chair set off a dim clenching in the pit of your stomach…but you still didn’t consider yourself scared. You’d lived through enough bandit captures and you were still here.

The fact that you couldn’t move your arms…or your legs…didn’t scare you. You’d been tied to a chair before. The strip of cloth forcing your mouth open at the corners, tied behind your head, didn’t scare you. Being gagged wasn’t new.

The cart of medical instruments just out of reach, reflecting the light from the dim exposed lightbulb above you, made that distant unease _slightly_ stronger. But you schooled your breathing, kept your heartbeat calm.

You didn’t react when the heavy door at the end of the room opened with a _clang_ and admitted two figures. One tall, thin, with mismatched arms. The other short, adorned with clothes fit for bandit royalty. Both had beautiful, deadly whorls of glowing color on their left arms. You knew who they were before they stepped into the light. You felt your hands curl into fists.

“We’ve been looking for you for…shit, two months?” Troy glanced down at his sister, who just offered an affirmative “mmhm” and resumed her appraisal. “Lucky for us, we don’t consider it time wasted.” Two massive mechanical fingers pressed under your chin, forcing your head up. “You’re a hell of a catch.”

The sickly yellow light did nothing to dull their frigid blue eyes. For the first time since you’d woken up in this room, a chill ran over your body.

“We’ll be thorough with you,” Tyreen purred before disappearing from your line of sight. “Don’t wanna risk fucking up our most promising _devotee_ …”

Troy laughed, sliding his fingers from your chin to your neck and down your chest. “You’re gonna be a goddamn _masterpiece_ by the time we’re done with you.” His voice held a promise you didn’t want him to keep. After a minute that stretched on far too long, he stepped back, toward the medical tools.

Your fight or flight response started to stir.

“This’ll all be so much easier on you if you _relax_ ,” Tyreen crooned from directly behind you.

You didn’t have much of a choice. The moment her hands touched the sides of your head, you felt…heavy. You tried to fight it, shaking your head from side to side, shouting through the rag in your mouth.

Tyreen’s hands gripped tighter. “Hey now, nuh uh uh. You’re only making it harder on yourself. Troy, get the pick ready. Is it sharpened?”

You struggled to lift your head, to see what he was doing. Your eyelids felt like anchors, there was static over your eyes, filling your mind.

“It’ll go through that skull like warm butter,” he assured, running the tip of a nasty-looking metal awl over one of his fingers. His eyes locked with yours and you watched in horror as he lifted his hand to his mouth and licked away the crimson rivulets dripping from his finger. The unfettered _ecstasy_ in his expression made your stomach churn.

_This_ was fear.

He bared a sharp, bloodstained grin at you as he approached. “Yours’ll taste _sooo_ much better…”

Using the last of your quickly-fading strength, you _thrashed_ against your restraints. Against Tyreen. Strangled screams filtered through the gag.

“Keep that up, honey,” Tyreen giggled. Her hands felt hot against your head. “He likes it.”

Fatigue settled like a weighted blanket over your brain, your body. _You couldn’t give in, you couldn’t let yourself…_

“Don’t worry…” Troy’s voice was a million miles away, underwater. “When you wake up, the first words outta that mouth are gonna be praises in our names. ‘Glory to the Twin Gods’ and all that bullshit…”

Searing pain lanced through your skull, ripping one final scream from your throat. After that, there was nothing but blissful darkness and the word ’ _glory_ ’ repeating gently somewhere just beyond mental reach.


	11. Ambrosia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn't think it would actually be poisoned.

It takes you a minute to realize that Troy’s doing this for your benefit, but once you do, you get this incredulous look on your face—is he _really_ doing this…to be _sweet?_ This is _good food_ , nothing like the usual on Pandora, and he’s just… _giving_ it to you.

He sees your expression shift and he smiles. “Figured it out, huh?”

You expect him to stop, to maybe dismiss you now that the game’s over, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pinches the next bit off with his fingers and extends it to you.

You reach out to take it from him, but he shakes his head, still smiling. “Open your mouth.”

You obey without hesitation and he gently presses the morsel against your tongue, trailing his fingers over your lips as you close your mouth.

“How’s it taste?”

_Just as good as the rest_ , you think, but you only manage a slow nod, still awestruck by the whole situation. He, Troy Calypso, your salvation, your protector, your _God_ …is allowing you to eat his food. Not only _that_ , but he’s directly _feeding_ you—

Your breath catches in your throat as he leans closer and touches his lips to yours. It’s barely a kiss, he pulls back before you can even really process what happened, but your heart is pounding and you’ve suddenly forgotten how to swallow.

He grins, sharp teeth catching on his bottom lip. “You’re damn cute when you’re nervous.”

\- - - -

Less than an hour later, you’re shaking in Troy’s arms, all decorum forgotten, all reverence moot in light of your current condition. He pushes a cool cloth against your forehead, hushing your pained whimpers.

“I didn’t know,” he assures, his brows knit into a panicked line. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Something inside you feels like it’s twisting, squeezing, stabbing. You can’t hold back a cry as the pain spikes.

Troy looks close to tears himself. “Tyreen,” he whispers. “I’ll get Tyreen.”

He’s reluctant to leave you, and you’re terrified to see him go, but he promises he’ll be back as quickly as possible. It feels like an eternity; your perception of time is skewed by the pain, the chills, the fever. You don’t have anything left in your stomach—you’d spent the better part of an hour vomiting while Troy rubbed your back—but you still curl forward, helpless as your weakening body is wracked with dry heaves.

This had been meant for him. If he hadn’t given it to you, he would be the one shivering on the floor. Dying. You should feel honored. Worthy. You’d protected your God with your life, the ultimate sacrifice. But all you feel is scared. You’re so tired, so weak. You just want him back. If you’re going to die, you want to die in his arms.

\- - - -

You awake to hands. Hands in your hair, on your shoulders. And then…voices. _Their_ voices. Soft, nearly confidential. Your eyelids flutter. Two pairs of dark-rimmed, icy blue eyes meet yours, one pair notably more concerned than the other.

Troy reaches out to you, murmuring something you can’t quite make out, but his hand is gentle on your skin, so you let yourself relax. “You’re okay now,” he breathes, sounding more like he’s trying to reassure himself. “You’re okay…”

You shut your eyes again, but hear Tyreen. “I’ll leave you two alone. If you need me, you know where to find me.” The bed shifts as she stands, then shifts again; you feel a body press against yours, an arm settle over your waist. His lips brush your jawline. You shiver, but…in a good way this time.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t know anyone would actually—” He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, which he then lets out in a tenuous sigh. “Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You drift back into blissful darkness, hoping the affection in his voice isn’t just wishful thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in response to this prompt from InkkEmulsion: "Y’know how super important historical figures used to have a taste tester of their foods before they ate so they don’t get poisoned? Consider that but Troy deliberately feeds them the best parts of the meal, demanding in a sickly sweet tone that “they don’t want their god to be poisoned do they?” But [he's] just spoiling the person. Bonus points if the food really was poisoned and Troy begs Tyreen to heal them"


	12. The Things We Do For Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written in response to a Tumblr request for Tyreen and a shy SO.

“C'mon baby…” Her voice is so gooey sweet that for a minute you forget what she’s asking you to do. “You’ll be _fiiiine_ … It’s only a _sentence_. Besides,” her dark lips tilt into a smirk and she crosses her arms. “You’re announcing _me_. And you _love me_.”

She’s…got a point, you have to admit. But on camera? For all _ten billion_ of their followers to see? You shift your weight. “Tyreen, I don’t–”

“ _Think_ about this.” She throws her arms open wide as if to hug you. But she doesn’t. “You’re _mine_. We’re _in_ a _relationship_. D'you know how many of our _stupid_ followers would _kill_ to be in your place? _All of them_. Baby…” Her arms drop to her sides as she sighs. “Just do it…for me?”

You know it’s coming and you know you won’t be able to say no and– There it is.

She pouts. “ _Please…?_ ”

Your resolve crumbles. How are you supposed to resist those sad blue eyes? “Okay…”

“ _Yes!_ ” This time she does hug you, very briefly. It tingles. “You’re the _best_ , babe! Lemme go get Troy’s cam-bot and we’ll do a couple test runs…” Her voice fades out as she hurries in the direction of her brother’s room, leaving you wondering why the _hell_ you just agreed to this.

You sigh. _Only a sentence_. How bad could it be?

********************

Seeing your face on screen is still embarrassing, still makes you blush, but she was right. It wasn’t _that_ bad.

She sweeps into the room, grinning. “See! I _knew_ you could do it!” She leaves a quick peck on your cheek. “You sounded _awesome_! You’re gonna give Mouthpiece a run for his money! Not...that we’re payin’ him all that much...but y’know what I mean!”

The compliment makes your blush flare hotter, but you can’t help the giddy swell of satisfaction that blooms in your chest in response to her praise.


	13. In Anticipation of the Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written as a response to a starter prompt I received on Tumblr. The prompt itself will be included below. Barely mentioned, but the reader is implied to be a member of the Sacred Flock (the twins' pet harem, if you have no idea what I'm talking about).
> 
> **WARNINGS: Implied cannibalism or smut, whichever way you roll.**

**PROMPT:** (edited for clarity)  
[The twins having a little show like the hunger games with Troy hunting down sacrifices and prisoners. This usually lasts maybe a day, he plays with them but loses himself to the bloodlust of the hunt. Your hunt is different though, Troy had hunted everyone down within the day but he couldn't find you. It took him hours to track you down, you had managed to hide your scent pretty well. As soon as you see him you bolt but not away from him, _at_ him. You dive between his legs and dash off through the false forest. You're small and use it to your advantage. It takes two and a half more days of tracking and chasing before he catches you. You're exhausted when he corners you. He looks feral, wild and hungry. Though it’s not your flesh he’s hungry for now, you got his blood pumping from the chase. After all you were sacrificed to him, to his hunger only it’s a different kind of hunger. Not to say he won’t still take a bite with Tyreen watching it all.]

**MY ADDITION:**  
When he finally catches up with you, there’s a familiar gleam in his eyes, bright as ever, unaffected by fatigue. It’s not exactly friendly, but at this point you’re too exhausted to keep running, so you resign yourself to accept whatever fate he has planned for you. You don’t flinch as he drops to a crouch just inches from where you’re sitting. By now, you know his scent; the heady musk of dust and sweat and faded cologne and the barest edge of acrid electricity. You’re sure the nuances would be lost on anyone outside the Flock, but you’d been there long enough. You know.

“Game over,” he purrs. He barely sounds winded. Tyreen must have been juicing him up more than usual for this. “You put on a good show, the fam _loved_ it.” He nods upward, undoubtedly indicating the hover-cam that’d been tracking you since this started. You don’t look to confirm, it’s old news at this point.

“What, no sass? Damn, I really wore ya out, huh?” He tousles your hair, leaning in close enough to ensure that his next words are only for you. “C'mon, I’m not done yet.” He pauses to search your expression. You’re too tired to give anything away, but something stirs in your gut. Exhaustion be damned, what happened _after_ the hunt was always your favorite part.

But you can’t let anyone besides the twins and the rest of the Flock know that. The COV wants conflict and opposition. So you put up just the right amount of fight as Troy, with a predatory grin, drags you out of the hunting ground by your ankle.


	14. Best Laid Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is kind of a deviation from the norm, it was written in response to another Tumblr prompt, and then I ended up writing a follow-up to finish it out when I received another ask about the aftermath of the first part. So this will be both parts combined and therefore longer than everything else in here right now.
> 
> **WARNINGS: Implied child death, the twins are assholes and I wrote them darker than I typically do.**

You couldn’t say you were _happy_ to see them…but out here, survival was survival. And you had a plan. Their vehicle was more of a tank than a technical, outfitted with heavy armoring, thick glass windows, intricate graffiti, and _so many guns_. Plus, it was _huge_ , jacked up on its axles, so much that it towered over the convoy of smaller rigs that flanked it.

_Figures_ , you think. _Ostentatious assholes_. You stow your rifle against your back and hop down from your sniper’s perch. Your plan would work. Or they’d shoot you on sight, but you were hoping for the former. By the time you make it to the gate of the camp, the entourage has slowed to a trundle. You watch, doing your best to put on an air of passive curiosity, as they roll to a halt. One of the cultists in the front-most rig throws a hand signal over his shoulder.

The doors of the Calypsos’ technical swing open simultaneously and the twins themselves jump to the ground, sending up dervishes of sand. You wonder if they’d rehearsed that.

“Hey! You!” Troy motions toward you as he shouts. “Fuck is this? Some kinda ambush?”

_If it was, you’d be walkin’ right into it, dumbass_. “The others left!” you shout over the sound of idling engines, more a roar than a rumble. “Skipped out a couple nights ago!”

Troy scoffs, a cruel smile on his lips. “Yeah, well…they can’t run forever.”

Tyreen steps into stride beside him. They look formidable. Moreso than their broadcasts make them out to be. The wind sweeping across the dunes whips their coats around their hips and ruffles their hair. They look… _powerful_.

“So why’d _you_ stay?” Tyreen quips as they close the distance. Her eyes, clear, bright blue, and filled with cold intelligence, appraise you. “You wanna join the family?”

You shake your head. “You let me live, I tell you where they went.”

“Aw, who said we were gonna kill ya?” Troy is directly in front of you now, his smile even harsher than before, revealing sharpened white teeth, interspersed with glints of gold. “Then again, who’s to say we won’t do it anyway? Helluva gamble.”

You shrug. “Don’t have much to lose.” You keep your expression neutral, your voice casual.

Troy sighs. It’s a melodramatic and—frankly?—irritating thing. “Dunno, Ty… Whaddaya think? I mean we _could_ just keep truckin’ and find ‘em eventually…” His eyes slide to you, the same calculating, icy blue as his sister’s. “They might be sendin’ us on a wild rakk chase…”

“North,” you confess without waiting for Tyreen’s input. “They went north. Said somethin’ about a cave system.”

The twins are silent for a moment, watching you too closely for your comfort, not that you’d let them know that. Then Troy licks his lips. Laughs. Slaps your shoulder. “Get outta here. You’re not worth the trouble. We’ll check up on your intel.”

A faint shift of expression crosses Tyreen’s face, it’s vague, but it looks like…confusion? Troy reacts so subtly it would have been easy to miss…but, well…you’d had siblings. “Have a nice life out here in Satan’s asshole!” he barks, steering Tyreen back toward the technical. “Coulda joined the fam, remember that!”

You try not to roll your eyes as they climb back into the massive rig. _Idiots_. It takes a minute for the roar of their engines to fully fade into the noise of the wind, but once it does, you grab your pack and leave the camp behind, heading southeast. “Hook, line, and sinker,” you mutter to yourself, triumphant.

_The tracker on your back, nestled in the folds of your jacket, blinks._

********** ********** **********

You should have _known. You should have **known!**_ It was their whole game - they _made_ themselves look stupid and inane. They _made_ people underestimate them. And you’d fallen for the entire act. _They’d_ played _you_. And now they’re here. Again.

You swear under your breath when your rifle clicks. “Need more ammo!” Half of your words are drowned by the explosion that rattles the mesa behind you. The resulting haze of red dust obscures your line of sight on the twins. They’re still a quarter-mile out, but they’re blazing through the front lines with frightening vigor. You don’t know many of the camp members personally, you keep to yourself, stay with family, close friends. Still, the massacre is hard to watch.

Bodies turn to stone under Tyreen’s fingertips, unnatural crystals jutting from their eye sockets and open mouths. Her tattoos are glowing white-hot and she’s _laughing._ Troy takes care of the rest, sweeping his sword through two, three, four people at a time, almost lazily, a satisfied smirk on his lips. They turn into crimson mist and scattered limbs. His white coat is stained with blood, but you don’t know if it’s his or…everyone else’s.

“Ammo incoming!” The shout is followed by the familiar, and welcome, clink of an ammo box landing in the sand next to you. You reload as quickly as possible, but your next look down your scope cements your fears.

They’re winning. They’re only a few thousand yards out now, backed by a seemingly-endless onslaught of cultists. You pick off a few of the larger ones, but your aim keeps locking on the twins. Troy. Tyreen. Troy. Tyreen. It’s a gamble, you know they’re both dangerous… Precious seconds tick by as you weigh your options. Hordes of shrieking cultists swarm past the first set of barricades. You hear shots from your left. From your right. Shouting, screaming…

You aim right between Troy’s deep-set blue eyes and squeeze the trigger.

_Crack!_

Darkness.

********************

Your head is throbbing, your ears are ringing. But all the gunfire, all the explosions, all the yelling…it’s silent. Everything comes back gradually. Sand crunching under boots, murmured conversation, bright light on the other side of your eyelids. You blink, squinting against the afternoon sun.

You’re on your knees, your hands are— You struggle in a split-second of panic as your body races to process what your brain already knows. Your hands are bound behind you, you’re gagged. You force yourself to breathe.

“Y'know, I _gotta_ hand it to ya.” Troy drawls from somewhere out of sight. “You’re smart. Not as smart as _us_ , but, well…” Suddenly, he’s in front of you, dropping to a crouch, lips pulled back into a wicked grin. “We’re tough to beat. If that psycho hadn’t knocked you into next week, you might’ve made that shot.” He ruffles your hair and stands, yanking you roughly to your feet with him. “Take a look around! We redecorated the place! Thinkin’ about callin’ it…I'unno…hey Ty! How’s ‘Calypso Chic’ sound?”

“Sounds stupid!”

Troy chuckles. “Yeeaaah…she’s just jealous she didn’t think of it first. Too bad you don’t get to stay, though! Real bummer. But! We got somethin’ _super_ special waitin’ for ya.” His grip on your shoulder is painfully tight as he steers you in the direction of their convoy.

You try not to look at the crumbling husks that litter the ground around you. Still, even in your peripheral vision, you see arms outstretched, crystalline mouths gaping in silent screams. Some are cowering. Some are…you swallow back the bile in your throat. Some are small, clinging tightly to hands and now-solid folds of clothes. Entire families are fused together into morbid statues, memorializing their last seconds. You tear your eyes away and focus on your feet.

“D'you get 'em all, Ty?”

She falls into stride beside you. “Yeah, think so. Been a while since I’ve had a feast like _that_.” She sounds satisfied. Sated. It only makes you feel sicker. “Kinda wanna take a nap now.”

“Don’t forget to share,” Troy mutters.

“Yeah, yeah…” She waves him off as they split around the front of their war technical.

You stumble when Troy gives you a shove toward the open door. A burly cultist covered in tattoos reaches down to grab your arm.

“Careful with that one,” Troy warns. “They’re gonna need to be, ah… _presentable_ later.”

Fear grips your gut as you’re hauled into the vehicle, but you can’t exactly ask anyone for an explanation. You’re not sure you’d _want_ to know, but the anticipation of the unknown is worse.

Troy is right on your heels, pulling the door shut behind him. “Don’t worry, pet,” he croons as he slides in next to you. He tilts your chin up with his left hand. “You’ll learn to love us, just like all the others. Welcome to the family.”


End file.
